Page 63 of A Rogue to Resist
“Only that she happened to be seated beside Lady Katherine throughout the reception, observing her reaction to your tête-à-tête with Lady Westmore,” Harrison replied with exaggerated casualness. “She found it most illuminating.”
Despite himself, Drake leaned forward. “What reaction?”
Harrison smiled slightly. “I believe ‘stricken’ was the word Lady Beauford employed. Followed by a hasty retreat to the terrace when Lady Westmore placed her hand on your arm.”
Drake recalled Katherine’s departure, her unusual pallor as she excused herself.
He had assumed she felt unwell, as she claimed. The possibility that her retreat had been prompted by jealousy—that she might care enough to be disturbed by his interaction with Lady Westmore—sent an unexpected surge of hope through him.
Hope he had no right to encourage, given Katherine’s consistent stance on remarriage.
“Lady Beauford is a notorious gossip with a penchant for romantic speculation,” Drake said firmly. “Whatever she imagined she observed, Lady Katherine has given me no reason to believe she views our relationship as anything but professional.”
Harrison sighed, setting down his empty glass with deliberate precision. “For a man of considerable intelligence, you can be remarkably obtuse about certain matters, Drake. Have you considered the possibility that Lady Katherine’s reluctance regarding marriage might be overcome by the right circumstances? With the right person?”
“She endured five years of marriage to Edmund,” Drake replied, his voice hardening at the thought of what Katherine had suffered. “Five years of subtle cruelty and diminishment, from all accounts. Why would she risk such an experience again, regardless of the man involved?”
“Because not all men are Edmund,” Harrison said simply. “And perhaps she has begun to recognize that distinction more clearly in recent weeks.”
Drake shook his head, unwilling to indulge in false hope. “You’re speculating without foundation. Lady Katherine has given no indication that her views on marriage have altered.”
“Has she not?” Harrison challenged. “Consider her actions rather than her words, Drake. She has spent countless hours assisting with estate matters that are no longer her responsibility. She has maintained a connection to Greythorne that extends far beyond what propriety or practicality would demand. And if Lady Beauford is to be believed, she was visibly distressed at the prospect of you marrying Lady Westmore.”
These observations struck Drake with unexpected force. He had attributed Katherine’s continued involvement with Greythorne to her attachment to the estate and its people—a connection forged during her years as countess, when she had carved out a realm of meaningful activity despite Edmund’s neglect.
But what if Harrison was right? What if her persistent presence in his life signified something more personal than merely concern for Greythorne’s welfare?
The possibility was both exhilarating and terrifying.
“Even if you’re correct,” Drake said slowly, “I have no right to ask Katherine to reconsider her position on marriage merely to solve my inheritance dilemma. She has earned her independence at considerable cost. I won’t be the one to suggest she sacrifice it.”
Harrison studied him for a long moment. “Is that truly your concern? Or are you perhaps afraid of the answer you might receive if you were honest about your feelings?”
Drake opened his mouth to deny the accusation, then closed it again as the uncomfortable truth of Harrison’s words sank in. Fear wasn’t an emotion he often acknowledged—in business andin life, he had always confronted challenges directly, weighing risks against potential rewards with clear-eyed assessment.
Yet when it came to Katherine, he found himself uncharacteristically hesitant. The prospect of rejection—of confirming that her involvement with Greythorne was indeed solely about the estate rather than any personal regard for him—was strangely paralyzing.
“Your silence is remarkably eloquent,” Harrison observed dryly. “As is the fact that you’ve been agonizing over this letter to Lady Westmore rather than simply sending your acceptance of what you yourself described as a perfectly sensible proposition.”
Drake glanced down at the unfinished letter, the word “accept” still hovering incomplete on the page. “Lady Westmore represents a practical solution to an urgent problem.”
“And yet you hesitate,” Harrison pointed out. “Because somewhere in that calculating mind of yours, you’ve already recognized a fundamental truth: some decisions cannot be made on practical considerations alone.”
The statement hung in the air between them, impossible to deny yet difficult to accept for a man who had built his life on rational assessment and strategic planning.
“I should complete my response to Lady Westmore,” Drake said finally. “She deserves the courtesy of a prompt reply, whatever my decision.”
Harrison rose, recognizing the implicit dismissal. “Of course. Though I would suggest you consider carefully what you truly want, Drake—not merely what seems most convenient or practical. Some opportunities, once declined, never present themselves again.”
After Harrison departed, Drake returned to the letter, determined to finish what he had begun. Lady Westmore’s proposition remained the most logical path forward. Ifhis feelings for Katherine were indeed one-sided—if her involvement with Greythorne was truly motivated solely by concern for the estate rather than any personal attachment to him—then accepting the widow’s offer was not merely practical but necessary.
It would be my honour to accept your proposal,he wrote, completing the sentence he had abandoned earlier.The arrangement you suggest offers advantages to us both, and your approach to marriage aligns with my own practical considerations.
The words felt hollow as he wrote them, but Drake pressed on.
I would suggest we meet at your earliest convenience to discuss the specific terms of our agreement, with a view to announcing our engagement within the fortnight. This timeline would allow for a wedding before the autumn, well within the entail’s requirements.
I remain, respectfully yours, Drake Halston, Earl of Greythorne
